Chapter 9: All the Reasons Why
She woke to the sound of her phone ringing. More accurately, she woke to the sound of the Galaxy Wars theme song playing. She rolled over, fumbling blindly on her nightstand for her phone.
It was Freddie. She didn't even have to look at the caller I.D. to know that.
For the last seven days he'd called her every morning at exactly seven o'clock. He said it was 'their thing', she said it was 'his death wish'. Sam wasn't exactly a morning person. With her eyes closed she put the phone to her ear.
"If you want to keep putting those hands on Mama's no-no places, you had better quit waking me up at the butt crack of dawn!" she tried to grumble at him, but her heart wasn't in it. Even at this ridiculously early hour, hearing his voice gave her chills.
"Up and at 'em woman! We got a web show to film." Freddie laughed.
iCarly didn't film for another ten hours, and he knew how much Sam hated to be woken early, but he couldn't help himself. The fact that his new status as her boyfriend allowed him to tease her like this without any true retaliation still hadn't lost its novelty. And she sounded so damn sexy when she was just waking up.
He thought of her, laying there in a tank top and panties –Sam said she had a tendency to strip in her sleep – her blond hair spread out over her pillow, her blue eyes heavy lidded with sleep. The thought was more than enough to get his heart racing. He wondered if she had any idea the effect she had on him.
"It is half past too freakin' early in the morning, so this call had better have a happy ending, or there's gonna be problems."
"I can think of a few happy endings…" he whispered into the phone, " they all start with you and me…and they end with…"
"Pancakes! Please say pancakes…with extra bacon!"
Freddie laughed. That wasn't exactly what he was talking about, but you can't wake up Sam Puckett this early and not expect to feed her.
"Pancakes it is!"
Sam threw the covers off and sat on the edge of her bed, running a hand through her hair. This was worth getting up for…free food and time with Freddie. As win-win a situation as she could dream of.
"So what time should I be there? Now sounds good to me. Mama is hungry!"
"Yeah, I'm sure you worked up quite the appetite trying to kill Patrice"
"Hey! That was totally not my fault. She needs to learn not to touch things that don't belong to her!"
Freddie wasn't complaining, watching Sam attack Patrice, over him no less, had been one of the top ten hottest things he'd ever seen.
"Enough small talk Freduccini…what time is breakfast?"
"My mom is leaving for work at eight I think. Why don't you come then?"
"You got it. I got 'The Evil Within 3', the extended director's cut. I'll bring it with me."
"Actually, I thought maybe we'd go out. The Seattle Arts Festival is downtown today. Maybe we could ask Carly and Brad to come with us?"
"That sounds great…except for the part about the festival…and downtown…and Carly and Brad."
"Sam! I thought we were past this?"
"Past what!"
"Past acting like vampires! All we ever do is sit in the dark…at your house, at my house, at the movies."
"We don't just sit…we also make out" she said, hoping to distract him from his point.
"In the house!"
Okay…that hadn't worked.
"All I said was that I didn't want to go to some lame arts festival. And Carly and Brad are sweet…but if I have to watch them making goo-goo faces I'm gonna lose my pancakes!"
"The festival won't be lame and who cares if Brad and Carly are making goo-goo eyes! They're a couple, and if you hadn't noticed, that's sort of what couples do. Normal couples anyway."
He shouldn't have said that.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Well… you didn't seem to have a problem locking lips in public when you were with Jonah… or Pete, or that weird dude you met in juvie!"
"Oh, so now you're jealous?"
"I am not jealous"
"No, you're just pissed off that I'm not tonguing you down in front of the world. I tell you what. Let's skip breakfast, hop a plane to New York and I can screw you senseless while everyone watches on the Times Square Jumbo-Tron!"
There was silence. Then she heard chuckling. And a snort, and Freddie erupted into laughter.
"What the hell is so funny Benson! You can't laugh while I'm tryin' to tell you off!"
"I'm sorry," he said, still laughing, "but…the Jumbo-Tron! Really?" He let out a breath, finally getting his laughter under control, "Listen, I'm not trying to fight with you. I'm just trying to make a point."
"And your point is?"
"My point is…" He paused and she could hear his mother screaming in the background, "I'm coming Ma!" he yelled back, "Listen Sam, we're gonna have to talk about this later. But we are going to talk about it."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you at eight-ish"
"If you come too late, no food for you" he threatened.
"If you eat my food, I break your arm." Sam said sweetly before hanging up.
She shook her head and walked toward the bathroom to start getting ready. This relationship stuff was exhausting. Before they became a couple she and Freddie fought all the time. She hit him, he screamed and hurled an insult, she threw one back along with her fist, Carly made them apologize and they moved on. Now, not only did they have to learn how to communicate without arguing…but they had to learn to do it without Carly playing referee. This was going to be interesting.
She wiped the fog off the mirror as she wrapped a towel around her. She studied her reflection in the mirror. Last night, when he dropped her off, Freddie stood on her porch staring at her. When she'd asked him why, he'd said 'because sometimes I can't get over how beautiful you are'. She tried to see that in the mirror. Blond hair, blue eyes, decent smile. She figured she was okay as looks went, but beautiful? She wasn't so sure she could see that. Yet another thing that amazed and worried her about Freddie. He saw things in her that no one else saw; including her. Every time they were together he found another thing to tell her. That she was smart, and funny. That she was talented and, as he put it, an evil genius. The compliments were creating a standard she knew she'd never live up to, a pedestal she was sure to fall from.
She walked to her closet, searching for something to wear. If she was going to have to follow the dork to this stupid festival, then she was going to wear something that would make him wish he'd kept her behind closed doors.
Freddie sent a quick text to Carly, asking if she and Brad wanted to come to the festival with him and Sam, then left his room to see what his mother was yelling about.
"Freddie, I've been calling you for breakfast for seven and a half minutes! When young men make their mothers wait, mommy's teeth will start to grate!"
His mother was crazy. He knew this. And even if he didn't, Sam never missed an opportunity to tell him. But she hadn't always been this way. When his dad died…well, nothing had really been the same since then, but it wasn't something he talked about, or wanted to think about. It was enough for him to know that when their whole world had fallen apart, his mom had done whatever it took to hold it all together for them. Maybe that made her a little crazy; okay – it definitely made her crazy, but it also made him know that she loved him.
"Sorry mom, I was on the phone."
"You know spending too much time on the phone isn't safe. They did a presentation on it at my Aggressive Parenting meeting. There are all these tiny waves of radiation floating right into your sweet little unprotected ears!"
Freddie laughed and sat down at the table across from his mom. She placed a bowl of Whole Grain Healthy O's in front of him. He grimaced and dipped his spoon into the bowl. Maybe if he just swirled it around until she left for work he could avoid actually eating it.
"So what do you have planned for the day?"
"Oh…um, I was just going to go to the Seattle Arts Festival downtown with Carly and Brad…and Sam" he said the last part under his breath. But his mom and her supersonic hearing were not to be fooled.
"Did you say Sam? As in Samantha Puckett? You're spending the day with that…that…delinquent!"
"Mom!"
"Fredward Benson! I am not going to leave you alone all day with a girl who has made it her mission in life to disfigure your beautiful face! That's it, I'm calling in to work!" She left the kitchen, walking toward the bedroom to grab her phone.
Freddie dropped his spoon in his soggy cereal and ran after his mom, stopping her outside the door of his bedroom.
"Mom, seriously, stop! This is ridiculous! You're overreacting!"
"Overreacting?"
"Yes, overreacting! I hang out with Sam all the time and you've never tried to stop me before."
"Yes, at school with teachers and security guards or at Carly's with Spencer…who is admittedly not the best chaperone around… but not alone!"
"Nothing is going to happen, mom. Sam wouldn't hurt me."
"Oh really? Who was it that gave you a tattoo that almost gave me a heart attack?"
"Sam…but it wasn't real!"
"And who was it that gave you that knot on your head the day before our annual mother-son glamour photo shoot?"
"She didn't mean to…"
"Oh, so she accidently hit you over the head with a block of wood? And who was it who filled your backpack with fire ants? And almost got you arrested for hacking the school's computer? And…"
Freddie held up his hands
"Alright, alright…I get it. You don't like Sam"
"Don't like her! This has nothing to do with not liking her! It has to do with her trying to kill you!"
Freddie threw his hands up in frustration and walked into his bedroom.
"Freddie." His mom walked in behind him, bent on making him see her way. "That girl is a bad influence! Her mother is trollop and didn't you tell me that she's been to..." she lowered her voice to a tense whisper, "juvie? Juvie, Freddie! Several times! Do you even know what kind of germs there are in places like that? Where criminals rest their heads, nasty germs are sure to tread!"
Freddie sat down on his bed and lowered his head into his hands. What was he supposed to say. He knew his mom loved him, and he knew that she was only saying these things because of that. Because she didn't know Sam. But he did…he knew the Sam that most people didn't take the time to see and even if most of the things his mom had said were true…they weren't the whole story.
"Mom, you just don't understand. Those things…the things that Sam's done…that she does, they're not…"
"So you admit it! You know that what I'm saying is true?"
"Yes! Okay, yes. Is that what you want me to say? Yes, she did knock me in the head with a stick, and yes, she did go to juvie, and yes she did do all the rest of the things you said but … things have become a little different the past few months."
"Different! How are things different? Has she had a personality transplant?"
"They just are! It's different…she's different! She wouldn't hurt me, mom!"
"How do you know that Freddie! She's bad news!"
Freddie felt fire in his blood. His face blazed red and he felt himself shaking. He'd never been this mad at his mom. He stood in front of her silent, scared that if he opened his mouth he'd say something he'd regret. He'd always respected her, but standing here, listening to her ripping Sam apart finally made something inside of him snap.
"She's not bad news! She's beautiful… and smart… and loyal. She's strong and fearless and amazing! You have no idea who she is, because you've never even given her a chance to show you! But I know who she is… and I love her."
His mother looked like someone had knocked the air out of her. The color drained slowly from her face as she stared up at Freddie. He was still shaking, his arms stiff at his side. Trying to calm himself he stepped backwards and sat down hard on the edge of the bed.
There it was; out in the open. He hadn't intended it to come out that way. He'd wanted to bring Sam over, sit his mom and down and tell her – maybe over dinner. This hadn't been the plan.
"You what?" His mother said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You…love her? So you are seeing her?"
He looked up at her. He wanted her to understand
"Yes. I love her mom. I really love her, and she loves me too."
"Well…I…I don't know what to say." She sighed deeply, running her hand over her brow. Reaching over to Freddie's desk she paused, looking at the picture frame that had sat there as long as Freddie could remember. It was a photo of him, and his dad. They were sitting in front of a Christmas tree, each making silly faces at the camera. She traced her fingers along the edge.
"At times like these…I really wish your father were here. He'd know what to say. He always knew what to say." Her voice cracked and swiped at a tear making its way down her face.
Freddie swallowed hard as tears threatened to fill his eyes.
"I miss him too."
He watched her face, waiting to see her next move. She was quiet, looking at the photo as if lost in her own world.
"Mom…I'm sorry you found out like this. I wanted to tell you earlier. You know…bring Sam over and tell you about us. But I'm glad you know now. I know you don't like Sam, but … she's going to be a part of my life. I don't want to hurt you, or make you sad. And I don't want to disrespect you, but I love Sam, and I'm not going to give her up for anyone. Not even you."
His mom stood, walking toward his bed. She sat down beside him.
"So…how long have you and Samantha…"
"Sam."
"Sam. How long have you and Sam been…seeing each other?"
Freddie looked over at his mother. He wasn't sure if he should answer her. Maybe this was a trap.
"You really want to know?"
She nodded her head.
"We've been hanging out for a few months. Just movies and stuff like that. But we've been dating for a week now."
"And she's… nice to you?"
He smiled. If she only knew. Sam had been 'nice to him' right on this very bed.
"Yeah, ma. She's nice to me. She makes me happy." He looked at her sincerely, "I'm sorry I yelled at you Mom. And I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you. But I'm not sorry for being with Sam. I love her."
"Freddie, there are a lot of big moments for mothers. The first time your baby talks. The first time they walk. The first day of school …and the first time you realize that your little boy is becoming a man" She smiled at him, "I may not be…fond of Samantha. I realize that I don't know her very well…but I know you. And I trust that if someone as wonderful as you can see something in her, and be in love with her… well she can't be all bad. So tell me…tell me about the girl who's stolen my babies heart."
Freddie released slowly the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and did just that. He told her about their trips to The O'Haloran were, as it turns out, his mom and dad had gone on a few dates themselves. He told her about how funny Sam was, how she was the best things about iCarly. He told her how Sam made him feel, how he felt strong when he was with her; like he could do anything. And he told her how much he wanted them to work, how much he wanted Sam to trust him, and how scared he was that she didn't.
He'd never talked to his mom like that. It felt good.
"Well," his mother said, standing to her feet, "Maybe I was wrong about Saman…Sam. But just remember, I'm your mother. It's my job to keep my eye on you. Now, if you're done with your teenage tirade, can you come and give your mother a hug?" she opened her arms to him and he stepped into them returning her embrace.
"Thanks mom, and I promise you…you're going to love her." She looked at him doubtfully, "or at least learn to tolerate her…for my sake"
She pulled away and kissed his forehead.
"Freddie!"
"What now!"
"You left your window open! That is an invitation for thieves and criminals!" She walked over and shut his window, setting all three of the locks she'd attached before glancing at her watch, "Oh my goodness, it's almost eight thirty, I'm late for work."
She walked quickly out of Freddie's room, gathering her jacket, purse and keys. Freddie followed her, grabbing his phone to check his messages. It was almost eight-thirty and he hadn't heard from Sam.
'That girl is a delinquent!'
'She's been to juvie!'
'Yes! Okay, yes…yes she did do all the rest of the things you said.'
Sam shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts as she descended the stairs of Bushwell Plaza. She was numb, she didn't even hear what Lewbert was screaming at her as she exited the building. When she got outside she slumped against the cool bricks of the building; willing herself to breath, to be calm, to not cry.
She'd been excited to actually arrive at Freddie's house early. She was never early – she was rarely even on time. But when she got to his door she heard his crazy mothers voice and figured she'd just shimmy down the fire escape and sneak into Freddie bedroom. If she was lucky he'd be getting dressed, and she was not opposed to lounging on the bed, watching a half-naked Freddie getting dressed. The puberty Gods had really been good to that boy.
Freddie's mom, the freakishly protective psychopath that she was, had fixed Freddie's window with two locks in addition to the one originally attached, but Sam had yet to meet a lock that she couldn't pick. She'd made quick work of the locks and was sliding the window open when she heard Freddie and his mom enter the room screaming.
This was new. She'd heard Freddie and his mom fight before. In the last year or so he'd gotten much better at standing up for himself when it came to Mrs. Benson. But this didn't sound the same. He was really screaming, his face was red and he looked like he was shaking. This was a side of Freddie she hadn't really witnessed before. She wondered if she should leave, give them some privacy, but, being Sam, she didn't consider it long before deciding that there was no way she was missing this.
She should have left.
She stood up from her spot against the brick wall and weighed her options. She could go upstairs. She knew that Freddie was probably waiting for her. But she couldn't face him, not now. Her body was on auto-pilot, her feet taking her home - away from Bushwell Plaza, away from Freddie.
He hadn't said anything. His mother had called her a delinquent; brought up all of the bad thing she'd done to Freddie. But her screaming insults about Sam didn't hurt nearly as much as Freddie's silence. His mom hated her. That wasn't really a shock, and if she thought about it, she could understand. But Freddie's silence…what did that mean?
She walked up the steps to her house, praying that her mother wasn't home. The last thing she needed was quality time with Pam. She was down enough as it was. And she could only imagine what her mom would say if she found out about this.
'Men don't stay with girls like us Sam… they always leave…always'
Yet another 'Pamism'. And one that she didn't need to hear right now. It was already running on a loop in her head.
Closing the door behind her she called out for her mom, breathing a sigh of relief when she was met with silence.
Silence. It was like her new enemy.
Her stomach growled angrily. She hadn't had breakfast; no pancakes for her today. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a Toaster Tart. Frosted Strawberry – her favorite. Waiting for it to warm in the microwave she replayed the scene from Freddie bedroom over and over in her head; trying to see it a different way. She must have missed something; heard him wrong. Yesterday he said he loved her; screamed it into the night from a freakin' lamp post! But today he'd just sat there; told his mother that she was right.
These last few weeks he'd made her feel so good, so special. Even before they were "official", just being with him had made her feel like she could do anything. Like she didn't have to be what everyone expected of her. She hadn't felt that good in a long time. A very long time.
The microwave signaled that her Toaster Tart was done. She opened the door and stared in, struck by an unfamiliar feeling.
She wasn't hungry.
She slammed the microwave door and headed for her room, throwing herself face first onto the bed. She wanted to cry; but she couldn't. She wanted to scream; but she was too tired. She wanted to…not feel the way she was feeling.
She reached under her pillow, her hand searching for a familiar piece of soft, worn felt. She found it and pulled it out, turning over on her back.
Pippy. Her stuffed panda.
Everyone she knew would be shocked to know that Sam Puckett had a favorite stuffed animal. But Pippy was more than that, she couldn't think of one crisis in her life when she hadn't had him with her. He was like cotton filled therapy.
She reached into the slit in his back. She'd put it there when she was seven and decided that he needed his appendix removed. Only she didn't know exactly where an appendix was. She pulled out the photo she kept hidden there.
Sam stared down it. It was torn in one corner, and the creases criss-crossing its surface made seeing the faces on it nearly impossible. But to her they were as un-obscured as the day the picture had been taken. She remembered him asking a woman passing by to take it.
'I need a picture of my Princess', he'd said
She saw her father, his mouth open wide in a smile as he pushed five-year old Sam on the swings. She was wearing her favorite princess costume and her Sesame Street moon boots. He'd told her she looked beautiful.
Tears filled her eyes as she remembered.
The playground swing went higher and higher, reaching toward the bright sun. The small, blond girl sitting on it was the picture of happiness, her head thrown back, mouth open, her tinkling laughter musical in its sweetness.
"Higher Daddy, higher!"
And he obliged; he rarely denied her anything. She was his princess.
"Five more minutes Sammy, then we have to meet mom and Mellie."
"Aww Daddy, I don't wanna! Mellie's stinky!" She wrinkled her nose to drive home her point and kicked her tiny feet hard, trying to go higher. She let her head lay back as the wind blew through her pig tails. She loved this feeling, like she was floating in space. Just the sun and the wind and her daddy's voice. No one calling names or yelling. No slamming doors. No hiding in her room. She wished she could stay here forever.
"Alright Sammy, time to go"
Her face crumpled into a frown. She hated those words. Hated to stop floating. Hated to go home. But at least her daddy was there.
She felt his large, warm hand take hers and give it a squeeze as they started toward their car. Every day with her daddy was wonderful. But today was extra wonderful; it was her birthday. And even though she had to share it with Mellie, it was still going to be the best day ever.
She sat in the back seat, wiggling her feet and singing to her stuffed panda Pippy. She'd had Pippy since she was a tiny baby. He came with her everywhere.
"Daddy, is it my special day today?
"You know it is Sammy"
"And I'm gonna have a big cake, and I can eat all I want?"
"You and Mellie are going to have a big cake. And yes, you can eat as much as you want."
"And you and me and Mellie are gonna sleep in a big tent in the backyard?"
Her father looked at her in the rearview mirror, her blue eyes lit with excitement. He tried to match her smile.
"You got it Princess"
"And we're gonna play Sleeping Beauty, an I get to be the princess…and Mellie has to be the smelly old dragon!"
"Sammy!" Her dad chided her, "You and Mellie can both be the princess."
She frowned. She didn't want to share being the princess with Mellie. She liked being adventure princesses, Mellie wanted to be princesses that just sat in the castle all day. Boring!
They pulled up to the front of the white clapboard house. The yellow trim was fading and the porch was littered with children's toys.
"Daddy?"
"Yes Sammy?"
"Me and Mellie have to be nice to each other, right?"
"That's right."
"Because we're family and family has to love each other, right?"
"That's right baby girl."
She paused and buried her face in the soft, worn fur of Pippy's neck.
"Do you love Mama, Daddy?"
Her father sighed and dropped to his knees so he was eye level with her. "Sammy…me and your mom, we…" he sighed and she thought he looked so sad. "I love your Mama, honey. And I love you and Mellie. We're a family and no matter what happens we'll always be family. Okay?" He tilted her chin and peered into her eyes. She wanted to cry but that would only make her daddy sadder, so she held Pippy tight and smiled up at her father.
"I love you Daddy!" Holding Pippy under her arm, she wrapped her other arm around her father's neck.
"I love you too Princess. Always"
She swiped at her tears, taking one last look at the picture, before putting it back in its hiding place. She loved this picture, the only one left of her father. But the picture was a lie.
Her dad left the day after her birthday.
That night she and Melanie lay together in Sam's bed, their heads under the covers to drown out the sound of their parents fighting. Melanie was crying and Sam wanted to, but she couldn't. Daddy always said that Mellie wasn't strong like her, that it was Sam's job to take care of her since she was the big sister – by three minutes. She'd grabbed a flashlight and put it under her chin to make silly shadow faces – Melanie's favorite. If she were laughing the noise downstairs wouldn't seem as loud.
After a while Melanie had fallen asleep, but Sam was still awake…listening. She heard a door slam and then it was quiet. After a while she crept out of her bed, careful not to wake Melanie. Her nightgown dragged against the stairs as she tried to walk quietly. The house was dark. Her daddy said she'd been tough since the day she was born – nothing scared her. But tonight in the silence and the darkness, Sam was scared – and she didn't know why. Something just felt…wrong.
The light from the television flickered in the living room falling on her mother's face as she sat on the sofa; head in her hands. Beside her on the sofa was a picture frame. In it was a picture of a man and a woman, each holding identical, squirming blond toddlers who were no doubt trying to run into the water of the ocean that lay behind them. Sam didn't remember that picture. She didn't remember Mama and Daddy ever smiling with each other like that.
In front of Sam's mom, on the floor, was a bottle. It had tipped over and the liquid inside had made a brown pool on the cream carpet. The whole room smelled of it. She shifted her weight to her other foot, holding onto the edge of the bookcase she was hiding behind.
"You might as well come out." Her mother said, her head still in her hands, her voice slurred. "Come on out and sit beside Mama, baby."
Sam walked over to the sofa and climbed up onto the deep blue cushions, placing Pippy softly on the sofa beside her. Her mother reached out to smooth Sam's hair. Her eyes were red and her face was blotchy and stained with tears. She smelled bad. Like she did on the days that daddy told her and Melanie to stay upstairs, play quietly and not bother her.
She hadn't always looked like that. She remembered being really little, before she was old enough to go to school, when her mother used to hug her and Mellie. She used to smile a lot and her and daddy used to kiss when they thought she and Melanie weren't looking. But that seemed like a long time ago.
"I messed up Sammy" her mother's face crumpled and fresh tears traced their way down her cheeks.
Sam didn't know what to say. She wanted her daddy.
"Where's daddy, mama?"
Her mother cried audibly now; her shoulders shaking. Sam felt a scary tickle in the pit of her stomach.
"Mama? Where is daddy at? Where's Daddy?"
She was almost shouting now. Something was wrong.
"He's gone Sammy."
"Gone where, mama?"
"He's just gone…probably over with that tramp!" She spit out the last words with force and leaned down, unsteadily, to pick up the bottle she'd left discarded on the floor. She tilted the bottle back, draining the last of its contents.
Sam couldn't speak. Her daddy was gone and she was scared. She wanted him to be here. She wanted him to walk in the door and smile and pick her up and swing her in the air. She wanted him to come and whisper in her ear that this was all a dream.
"When is daddy coming back?"
Her mother looked at her, this time her red-rimmed eyes were angry. She chuckled but her laugh held no joy in it.
"Don't you get it kid? She threw the empty bottle back on the floor, making Sam flinch, "He's gone! Vamoosed! Adios! Elvis has left the building!" she was yelling now, attempting to stand on unsteady feet. Sam glanced toward the stairs, praying Mellie wasn't awake.
"He's gone…" her mother said, walking toward the room she used to share with Daddy, "and he ain't comin' back."
All of the color had gone out of the world. She couldn't breathe. She wanted to run outside and see if her daddy's truck was there. She'd squeezed her eyes tight and told herself over and over that it was all a terrible, terrible dream. But when she'd opened them she was still there, the light from the television casting shadows in the room. She should go upstairs and check on Mellie. She knew she should, but she couldn't.
She walked over to the door where daddy kept his jacket hung. It was the jacket he wore when they camped out in the backyard. She buried her face in the sleeve; it still smelled like him. She had to reach on her tiptoes to pull it from the hook. She wrapped it around herself, just like a royal cape. She lay down on the sofa, holding Pippy and the picture frame. She hadn't been aware that she was crying until she saw her reflection in the frame. Her eyes were red and her face was blotchy. She looked like Mama.
When Sam woke in the morning the house smelled different. Like Pine Sol. The dark spots on the floor were gone. When she looked by the door her daddy's work boots were gone. And his toolbox. There were bright spots on the walls were pictures used to hang. Pictures of him. Pictures of her family.
She'd gone to sleep someone's Princess, and woken up…alone.
Twelve years ago, and it still hurt like it was yesterday. She was crying freely now, not bothering to wipe her face as the tears pooled beneath her chin.
It had felt something like this when her dad left. Like the wind had been knocked out of her; like she'd lived a lie.
She'd known this would happen. She'd even tried to talk to Freddie about but he always said she was crazy. That he'd been around her for long enough to know who she was. That he didn't want her to change. But that was a lie. She'd heard the truth…in his silence. If he was too ashamed to defend her to his mother, who didn't know half of the things she'd done-not just to Freddie, then they didn't stand a chance once the rest of the world got to him.
She'd fought herself for months. Trying to tell herself that she and Freddie could work. That they could be good together; that she could be good with him- for him. But now she had to see what was true.
She'd been living in a fairytale. And it wasn't going to end in happily ever after.